A  Southern  Flight 
Frank  Dempster  Sherman 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


v 


A  Southern  Flight 


A  Southern  Flight 


FRAN  K    DEMPSTER    SHERMAN 

'/ft  sft     I 

LINTON    SCOLLARD 


GEORGE  WILLIAM  BROWNING 

M    DCCCC   V 


Copyrighted  1905  by 
Frank  Dempster  Sherman  &  Clinton  Scollard 


f  s 


CONTENTS 

A  Southern  Flight  ix 

A  Sea  Nocturne  xi 

Saint  Augustine  xiii 

The  Tree  Tavern  xv 

A  Song  xvii 

The  Jessamine  Bower  xviii 

A  Florida  Tulip  xx 

A  Florida  Night  xxii 

At  Dusk  xxiii 

At  Fort  Marion  xxiv 

The  Cathedral  Bells  xxvi 
The  Fortress  of  San  Marco     xxvii 

Night  on  the  Sea- Wall  xxviii 

A  Southern  Balcony   .  xxix 

Dawn  in  Carolina  xxx 

To  a  Mocking  Bird  xxxi 

Night  off  Hatteras  xxxii 

The  Spell  xxxiii 
Morning  by  the  Matanzas      xxxiv 

In  Absence  xxxv 

Song  at  Daybreak  xxxvii 

Nocturne  xxxviii 

Serenades  in  the  South  xxxix 

Spring  Song  xli 

The  Night  Voyage  xliii 

The  Message  xliv 

The  Wind  in  the  Palms  xlv 

At  Her  Window  xlvii 

The  Silent  Day  xlix 

Longings  1 

Dorchester  Churchyard  li 

Dorchester  Fort  Hii 

A  Balcony  Song  liv 

At  Twilight  Iv 

Noontide  Ivi 

Sunset  Ivi 

Moonlight  Ivii 

A  Thrush  Singing  Iviii 

Bon  Voyage  lix 


Weary  of  the  Winter's  prose, 
Leave  it  for  a  little  while ; 

Seek  the  realm  of  rhyme  and  rose, 
In  the  southland's  sunny  smile. 

Find  again  the  joys  that  came 

With  the  June  and  with  her  sped; 

Find  the  Summer  and  the  same 
Flawless  sapphire  overhead. 

She  and  all  her  dreams  await 
In  the  Eden  of  the  South; 

We  shall  greet  her  at  the  gate 
With  a  red  rose  in  her  mouth. 

Winter  we  shall  soon  forget, 
For  in  that  enchanted  clime 

God  to  melody  has  set 

All  the  sweet  of  summer-time  ! 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  SOUTHERN  FLIGHT 

The  winter  day  dragged  drearily 

In  icy  pallidness  away 
Before  we  flung  our  hawsers  free, 

And  dropped  adown  the  Bay. 

Then  twilight  swooped  ;   the  shore  grew  blind, 
Save  where  the  sunset's  gusty  pink 

Stained  the  embattled  clouds  behind 
The  hills  of  Navesink. 

Soon  Barnegat  Hared  out  its  fire 

As  we  the  purple  ridges  clomb  ; 
Five-Fathom  Bank  its  white  desire 

Flashed  o'er  the  fields  of  foam. 

And  ere  the  dawn  broke  vermeil-bright 
O'er  beryl  league  on  weltering  league, 

Shimmered  across  the  void  of  night 
The  star  of  Assateague. 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


We  dreamed  we  saw  the  twin  capes  pass 
Through  shredded  fog  that  worketh  dole, 

And  caught  round  stormy  Hatteras 
The  long  Atlantic  roll. 

Afar  from  Lookout  and  from  Fear 
We  faced  and  cleft  the  flying  flaw ; 

Tall  Tybee's  tower  we  left  a-rear, 
And  lonely  Ossabaw. 

Then  on  a  morning  blithe  and  bland 

The  land, —  the  longed-for  land  !  —  and,  ah, 

Above  the  tawny  dunes  of  sand 
The  palms  of  Florida  ! 

The  palms,  the  sunshine,  and  the  breath 
Of  flowers,  the  sky  without  a  stain ; 

And  after  winter's  dearth  and  death, 
Summer  and  life  again  ! 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  SEA  NOCTURNE 

Above  the  sea  in  splendor 

The  new  moon  hangs  alone, 
A  silver  crescent  slender 

Set  in  a  sapphire  zone  ; 
Around  me  breathe  the  tender, 
Sweet  zephyrs  of  the  south  : 
Night  will  not  let 
My  heart  forget 
Her  kisses  and  her  mouth. 

The  loose  sails  idly  swinging, 

The  ship  lights'  glow  and  gleam, 
The  bell-buoys'  muffled  ringing, 

Drive  all  my  thoughts  to  dream, — 
To  dream  of  her  voice  singing 
The  songs  I  love  the  best : 
Night  will  not  let 
My  heart  forget 
Where  she  has  made  her  nest. 


xl 


A      SOUTHERN      I'  LIGHT 


O  Love,  where  art  thou  biding 

While  hangs  this  moon  on  high 
Star  in  the  twilight  hiding, 

Come  forth  and  light  the  sky 
Above  the  ship  slow  gliding 
Over  the  southern  sea  : 
Night  will  not  let 
My  heart  forget 
Love's  eyes  that  shine  for  me ! 


xli 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE 

Quaint  old  town  by  the  sea 

Under  the  southern  star, 
Sleepy  with  sun,  to  me 

Dear  as  a  dream  you  are  ! 

The  climbing  jasmines  bar 
Your  balconies  with  their  green ; 

Ever  you  lure  from  afar, 
Fair  Saint  Augustine  ! 

Ever  you  lure  when  the  year 

Over  the  north-land  throws 
A  spell  that  is  white  and  drear, 

A  mantle  of  sleet  and  snows  ; 

Ever  your  sunset's  rose, 
Your  water's  shifting  sheen, 

Beckon  the  heart  that  knows 
Fair  Saint  Augustine  ! 

Strange  are  your  narrow  streets 

With  their  dull,  half-Spanish  air ; 
The  palms,  and  the  song  that  greets 

The  ear  from  the  mock-birds  there ; 

The  slave-mart  in  the  square ; 
And,  high  o'er  the  drowsy  scene, 

The  bells  that  sound  to  prayer, 
Fair  Saint  Augustine ! 


xiii 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 

Down  by  the  long  sea-wall 

Fondly  the  lovers  stroll ; 
The  bell-buoy  sends  its  call 

In  from  the  harbor  shoal ; 

The  old  fort  hears  the  roll 
Of  the  tide  where  its  ramparts  lean,- 

Shell  of  a  far-flown  soul, — 
Fair  Saint  Augustine  ! 

Memoried  town  by  the  sea, 

Take  what  little  is  mine, — 
This  strain  of  melody 

To  the  palm  land  from  the  pine, 

This  slender  lyric  line 
From  one  whose  heart  has  been 

Thine,  and  is  ever  thine, 
Fair  Saint  Augustine  ! 


Xi  V 


A     SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  TREE  TAVERN 

In  the  Tavern  of  the  Tree, 
Listen  to  the  revelry  : 
Mark  the  merry  minstrel  there 
Seated  in  his  leafy  chair, 
At  his  cups  the  whole  day  long, 
Paying  toll  with  silver-song. 
Every  draught  he  takes  is  drawn 
From  the  cellars  of  the  Dawn ; 
Fragrant  dew  from  flowery  flasks, 
Amber  air  from  fairy  casks 
Brought  from  Araby,  and  bright 
With  the  Orient's  golden  light; 
All  the  spice  of  buds  and  vines 
Flavors  his  delicious  wines ; 
Is  it  strange  his  lyrics  hold 
So  much  of  the  summer's  gold  ? 
Rapture  of  the  roses  caught, 
Into  music  deftly  wrought; 
Run  and  ripple  of  the  rills 
All  translated  in  his  trills ; 
Every  sweet,  enchanted  thing 
In  his  gladness  made  to  sing. 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 

Ah,  my  mocking-bird,  drink  on 
Till  the  happy  day  is  gone  ; 
Till  the  pale  moon  rising  up 
Drops  the  stars  down  in  your  cup ; 
Then  to  dreams  once  more,  and  then 
All  the  world  grows  still  again  ! 


X  Vi 


A     SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  SONG 

Under  the  pendulous  plumes  of  the  palm, 
Drowsing,  I  dream  in  the  odorous  calm  ; 

Dreams  of  delight  and  of  rapture 

I  capture 
Out  of  this  bower  of  the  bloom  and  the  balm. 

Over  me  carols  a  bird  on  the  bough, 
Passionate  melody,  amorous  vow ; 

All  of  his  happy  song  spells  me 

And  tells  me 
Fly  to  her,  lover,  and  speak  to  her  now  ! 

Sweetheart,  I  send  you  the  song  of  the  bird  : 
Dared  I  interpret  the  message  I  heard, 

This  were  the  whisper  above  you, — 

/  love  you  ! 
This  were  the  music,  the  secret,  the  word. 


X  Vil 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  JESSAMINE  BOWER 

I  know  a  bower  where  the  jessamine  blows, 
Far  in  the  forest's  remotest  repose  ; 

If  once  the  eyes  have  beholden 

The  golden 
Chalices  swinging,  farewell  to  the  rose ! 

Just  at  the  bloom-burst  of  dawn  is  the  hour 
God  must  have  fashioned  the  delicate  flower, — 

Wrought  it  of  sunlight,  and  thrilled  it 

And  filled  it 
With  a  beguiling  aroma  for  dower. 

Here  hath  the  air  an  enchantment  that  seems 
Borne  from  the  bourn  of  desire  and  of  dreams,  — 

Borne  from  the  bourn  of  youth's  longing 

Where,  thronging, 
Dwell  all  love's  glories  and  glamours  and  gleams. 

Here  doth  the  palm-plume  depend  and  the  pine; 
Here  doth  the  wild-grape  distil  its  dark  wine  ; 

Here  the  chameleon,  gliding 

And  hiding, 
Changes  its  hues  in  the  shade  and  the  shine. 


x  viii 


Luring  the  lights  are  that  falter  and  fail, — 
Emerald,  amber  and  amethyst  pale, 

Splashes  of  radiant  splendor 

And  tender 
Tints  as  when  twilight  is  deep  in  a  dale. 

By  no  bold  bees  are  the  stillnesses  stirred  ; 
Scarce  is  there  bubble  of  song  from  a  bird, 

Save  for  the  turtle-dove's  cooing 

And  wooing, — 
Rapture  without  an  articulate  word. 

Sway  on,  O  censers  of  bloom  and  of  balm ! 
Sweeten  the  virginal  cloisters  of  calm  ! 

Be  there  one  spot  lovely,  lonely, 

Where  only 
Peace  is  the  priestess,  and  silence  the  psalm ! 


xix 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  FLORIDA  TULIP 

Crimson  cup,  wherein  is  blent 
Something  of  the  spice  and  scent 
Hinting  of  the  Orient, 

You  remind  me 
Of  a  garden  sweet  that  lies 
Under  other  summer  skies, — 
Of  the  lips  and  of  the  eyes 

Left  behind  me. 

You  recall  a  blossom  bower 

Where  I  found  love's  magic  flower, — 

O  the  rapture  of  that  hour, 

And  the  sweetness ! 
When  the  East  was  yellow  flame, 
When  to  kiss  me  first  she  came 
Bringing  me  the  joy  we  name 

Love's  completeness. 

So  I  lift  you  to  my  mouth, 
In  this  garden  of  the  South, 
For  my  lips  are  parched  with  drouth 

Long  unbroken : 
Give  me  of  your  share  of  bliss, 
One  remembrance  of  that  kiss  : 
All  I  ask  of  you  is  this 

Tulip  token. 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


Let  me  gently  tilt  you  up 
To  my  lips  once  while  I  sup 
Fragrance  from  your  crimson  cup, 

And  discover 

Once  again  the  kiss  I  found, 
Once  again  the  bliss  that  crowned 
Those  two  lips  where  sweets  abound 

For  a  lover. 


xxi 


A  FLORIDA  NIGHT 

The  slender  new  moon  seems  as  frail 
As  thin  ice  'twixt  November  reeds  ; 

A  bird-note  from  a  distant  swale 
Mounts  and  recedes. 

A  wan  moth  dips  across  the  dusk 
Like  a  magnolia's  ghost,  and  then, 

Amid  the  scent  of  rose  and  musk, 
Is  gone  again. 

The  dews  gleam  beryl-wise ;  you  come, 
Your  hair  caught  up  in  amber  strands, 

Life's  bliss  —  its  whole  ecstatic  sum  — 
In  your  white  hands  ! 


xxll 


OUTHERN      FLIGHT 


AT  DUSK 

The  air  is  filled  with  scent  of  musk 

Blown  from  the  garden's  court  of  bloom, 
Where  rests  the  rose  within  her  room 

And  dreams  her  fragrance  in  the  dusk. 

Above,  attended  by  her  stars, 
The  full  moon  rises,  round  and  white, — 
A  boat  in  the  blue  Nile  of  night 

Drifting  amid  the  nenuphars. 

And  now  the  whippoorwill  who  knows 

A  lyric  ecstasy  divine 

Begins  his  song.     Ah  !  sweetheart  mine, 
What  shall  love's  answer  be,  my  Rose  ? 


xxlli 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


AT  FORT  MARION 

Above  the  bastions  and  long,  low  beaches 
The  clamoring  ospreys  poise  and  soar 

While  the  ramparts  over  the  harbor  reaches 
Gaze  as  they  gazed  of  yore. 

In  the  cedar-trees  by  the  ancient  entry 
The  mock-birds  sweeten  the  gliding  hours, 

But  there's  never  the  sign  of  a  single  sentry 
In  one  of  the  guardian  towers. 

Gone  the  trace  of  each  old  commando 
The  Spaniards  sent  to  this  shore  of  bloom  ; 

The  dungeons  fashioned  by  Don  Hernando 
Are  peopled  only  with  gloom. 

Tiny  peace-flowers  gleam  in  the  grasses 
That  green  the  width  of  the  gaping  moat ; 

War,  with  its  bugles  and  marching  masses? — 
Not  the  wraith  of  a  note ! 


X  X  i  V 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


Only  dreams  by  night  of  the  olden 
Days  when  the  doughty  deeds  were  done 

Only  dreams  by  day  in  the  golden, 
Bland  Floridian  sun ! 


A      SOUTH  K  R  N      FLIGHT 


THE  CATHEDRAL  BELLS 

SAINT   AUGUSTINE 

High  in  the  old  cathedral  tower  they  hung, 
Four  ancient  bells,  the  bronze  arpeggio 
That  called  to  prayer  the  gray  monks  long  ago, 

And  marked  the  hour  while  mass  was  said  and  sung. 

Over  a  land  of  fragrant  flowers  they  flung 
Petals  of  music  that  were  wont  to  blow 
Out  of  the  rose  of  Time,  whereof  we  know 

Naught  save  how  sweet  it  is  and  ever  young. 

Listen  !  across  the  midnight  comes  their  call ; 

Twelve  in  succession  sound  the  bell-notes  clear : 

A  day  has  gone ;  another  day,  begun. 
I  catch  their  message  as  the  echoes  fall : 

Vale  Hispania  !  Day  of  shadows  drear  ! 
Ave  America  !  Day  of  joy  and  sun  ! 


X  X  V  1 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  FORTRESS  OF  SAN  MARCO 

Gray  as  the  gulls  above,  San  Marco  lies, 
Builded  by  Spain  three  centuries  ago ; 
A  star  of  stone  —  a  star  whose  gleam  and  glow 

Are  gone  forever,  blotted  from  our  skies. 

Bastion  and  battlement  before  me  rise 

Storied  with  memories  of  war's  grim  woe, 
But  over  them,  in  balmy  gales  that  blow, 

Triumphantly  the  flag  of  freedom  flies. 

Along  the  ramparts  now  the  lizards  crawl, 

Or  lazily  lie  basking  in  the  sun  ; 
Beyond  the  moat  the  sea-tides  lift  and  fall ; 

And  while  I  dream  of  battles  lost  and  won  — 
Sudden  a  voice  !  —  and  then  I  see  him,  small, — 

A  Yankee  bugler  on  a  Spanish  gun  ! 


vil 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


NIGHT  ON  THE  SEA-WALL 

Athwart  the  bay  the  Anastasia  light 

Pencils  a  golden  pathway  up  whose  beams 
One  might  ascend  unto  the  port  of  dreams, — 

Some  vision-haven  in  the  heart  of  night. 

In  silvery  syllables  the  tides  recite 
Their  luring  lyrics,  plaintive  old-time  themes 
Of  days  when  hither,  drawn  by  gold's  red  gleams, 

Spain  winged  her  galleons  on  their  far  sea-flight. 

How  hath  the  imperial  aegis  of  her  power 
Waned,  as  the  wasted  moon  adown  the  sky  ! 

Here  all  is  changed,  yet  strange  doth  it  befall 
That  Love,  of  yore  the  monarch  of  this  hour 
When  lips  to  lips  make  passionate  reply, 
Is  still  the  sovereign  of  the  old  sea-wall ! 


xxvlil 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  SOUTHERN  BALCONY 

In  the  soft  glow  and  glamour  of  the  night 
I  heard  the  sound  of  music  down  the  street, 
A  girl's  voice  singing  some  old  ballad  sweet, 

A  song  of  love  and  all  of  love's  delight. 

Above  me  hung  the  moon's  great  blossom  bright, 
And  swarms  of  stars  like  bees  came  forth  to  greet 
This  bloom  of  wonder  in  its  blue  retreat, — 

This  world-flower  with  a  bosom  lily  white. 

Within  the  plaza  drowsily  the  purl 
Of  fountains  fell  upon  the  fragrant  air, 
And  I,  aweary  of  the  long,  hot  day, 
Slumbered  and  dreamed ;  and  still  that  singing  girl 
Sang  in  her  balcony, —  and  I  was  there 
With  you,  Sweetheart,  a  thousand  miles  away  ! 


X  X  1  I 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


DAWN  IN  CAROLINA 

The  opal  sky  grew  daffodilian 

With  luminous  presage ;  the  expectant  pines 
Leaned  orientward  in  long  and  silent  line's, 

Then  through  their  boughs  a  little  murmur  ran. 

It  was  as  though  the  whole  awaiting  clan 

Spake  each  to  each  in  whispers ;  e'en  the  vines 
And  pendant  moss,  that  clings  and  intertwines, 

To  thrill  with  some  fine  prescience  began. 

There  seemed  a  troubadour  in  every  tree ; 

Trill  answered  trill,  and  run  replied  to  run  ; 
And  when  there  burst  a  crowning  ecstasy, 
Lo,  adown  corridor  and  colonnade, 
Piercing  the  shadow,  shattering  the  shade, 
Sovereign  in  sudden  imminence, —  the  sun  ! 


A     SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


TO   A   MOCKING-BIRD 

Thou  feathered  minstrel  perched  in  yonder  tree, 
Thou  bird-magician  in  a  blue-gray  coat; 
Trickster  of  tune,  thou  canst  repeat  by  rote 

Thy  rivals'  songs  and  win  their  loves  to  thee  ! 

Song-sorcerer,  who  canst  with  melody 

Lure  us  to  listen,  thou  whose  slender  throat 
Is  full  of  sweetness  bubbling  note  by  note, 

Wizard  of  music,  sing  thou  on  to  me  ! 

Chatter  of  blackbird,  warble  of  the  wren, 

Joy  of  the  jay,  and  passion  of  the  thrush, 

And  every  trill  that  ever  bird  has  known,- 
I  heard  him  jesting  for  awhile  ;  and  then, 
Softly  upon  the  morning  in  a  gush 

Of  lyric  love  I  heard  him  call  his  own. 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


NIGHT  OFF  HATTERAS 

We  saw  the  light-ship  winnowing  the  west 
With  its  thin  fan  of  flame,  and  from  afar 
A  beacon  glimmered  like  a  ruddy  star 

Across  the  ocean's  undulating  breast. 

Here  in  this  haunt  that  harbors  storm  for  guest, 
Where  currents  join  with  roaring  rush  and  jar, 
There  was  no  sign  of  tumult,  naught  to  mar 

The  night's  blue  vastness  and  the  sense  of  rest. 

Peace  lay  upon  the  waters ;  o'er  the  sky 
Peace  spread  the  visible  aura  of  its  wings ; 

It  was  as  though  the  warring  winds  were  awed  ; 
We  felt  that  from  the  void's  immensity, — 
The  brooding  mystery  that  round  it  clings, — 
Leaned  the  Inscrutable  whom  we  name  God  I 


1  i 


A      8  O  U  T  H  £  E  N      FLIGHT 


THE  SPELL 

There  is  a  garden  of  the  South 

That  lies  along  the  sea, 
Kissed  ever  by  the  Summer's  mouth, 

And  sweet  with  melody. 

Around  it  runs  a  fragrant  zone 

Of  rose  and  jasmine  blent, 
From  whose  bloom-builded  bowers  are  blown 

Breaths  of  the  Orient. 

The  wonder-songs  of  mocking-birds 

Made  for  the  day's  delight, 
Are  still  remembered  in  the  words 

Lisped  by  the  breeze  at  night. 

Sweetheart,  if  you  were  here  to  grace 

This  garden  with  your  eyes, 
Eden  were  this  enchanted  place, 

Just  next  to  Paradise. 


XIXlll 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


MORNING  BY  THE  MATANZAS 

Swiftly  the  tides  of  the  Matanzas  run 
Racing  to  sea  beneath  the  morning  sun. 

The  reeds  a-row  like  shimmering  spears-men  stand 
Guarding  the  gray  approaches  to  the  land. 

One  white  gull  swoops  across  the  middle  space, 
The  animate  embodiment  of  grace  ; 

And  pressing  toward  the  shore,  tree  crowding  tree, 
The  woodland  treads  with  murk  and  mystery, 

Scarfed  with  the  golden  jessamine,  and  the  plume 
Of  the  wild  plum  with  its  ethereal  bloom. 

Such,  so  one  dreams,  was  the  strange  wonder-spell 
Smote  Ponce  de  Leon  on  his  caravel 

Sweeping  the  radiant  reaches,  till,  in  truth, 

He  deemed  the  land  must  hold  the  Fount  of  Youth  I 


X  X  X  1  V 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


IN  ABSENCE 

It  matters  not  how  far  I  fare, 

Or  in  what  land  I  bide, 
Your  voice  sings  ever  on  the  air, 

Your  face  shines  at  my  side. 

For  me  each  crimson  flower  that  slips 

Its  velvet  sheath  of  green 
Yields  the  remembrance  of  your  lips 

With  all  their  sweets  between. 

Your  hair  is  in  the  dusk  that  lies 

Around  me  when  I  rest; 
My  only  stars  are  your  dear  eyes, 

Love's  own  and  loveliest. 

Happy  am  I,  though  far  apart 
From  all  that  makes  life  dear : 

Love  dwells  contented  in  my  heart, 
Exiled  yet  always  near. 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 

Then  take  my  message,  Sweet,  and  know 

How  far  your  love  has  flown 
To  cheer  and  bless  your  lover,  so 

Lonely,  but  not  alone  : 

I  send  it  from  the  drowsy  South, 

A  dream  of  my  delight, 
A  message  to  your  rosebud  mouth, 

A  kiss,  and  a  good-night ! 


vl 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


SONG  AT  DAYBREAK 

Unto  the  portal  of  the  Day  there  came 
A  shining  presence  fashioned  out  of  flame, 
And  from  that  purple  threshold  of  the  world 
Arrows  of  fire  across  the  shadows  hurled. 

Into  the  forest,  over  plain  and  sea 
The  darts  in  silence  sped  unerringly, — 
Lances  of  sunlight  from  the  Morning's  bow, — 
Until  the  firmament  was  all  aglow. 

Then  from  the  zenith  suddenly  I  heard 
The  dew-fresh  notes  of  some  enraptured  bird, 
Lost  in  the  golden  labyrinth  of  light, 
Singing  the  dreams  of  the  departed  Night. 


v  1 1 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


NOCTURNE 

About  her  while  she  slumbers 
Breathe,  zephyrs  of  the  night, 

And  weave  of  lyric  numbers 

Dreams  that  shall  bring  delight ! 

The  secrets  of  the  roses 
In  fragrant  whispers  tell, 

Unto  her  who  reposes, — 
A  white  pearl  in  its  shell. 

Sing  of  the  stars  above  her, 
Then  once,  ere  you  depart, 

Sing  softly  how  I  love  her,— 
Dear  keeper  of  my  heart. 

And  when  the  dawn  has  shaken 
The  diamonds  from  the  vine, 

From  sweet  dreams  let  her  waken 
To  find  these  arms  of  mine. 


XXX  Viil 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


SERENADES  IN  THE  SOUTH 
i 

Dreams  at  midnight !  Ah,  my  Sweet, 

Sometimes,  i'  the  night's  heart,  I 
Catch  the  transitory  beat 

Of  a  dream  that  wingeth  by, 
Wrought  of  gold  that  seemeth  spun 
(  As  your  hair  is )  from  the  sun  ; 
Wrought  of  flowers,  their  glow,  their  grace; 
( As  your  face  is  —  ah,  your  face  ! ) 
Be  my  dreams,  then,  still  of  you, 
For  'tis  midnight  dreams  come  true  ! 

Dreams  at  midnight !  Dearest  heart, 

In  the  moon's  mid-watches,  I 
Sometimes  out  of  slumber  start, 

As  a  dream  goes  fleeting  by, 
Fashioned  from  caresses  such 
As  I  know  are  in  your  touch  ; 
Holding  all  the  perfect  bliss 
Of  your  yet  unmemoried  kiss. 
Be  my  dreams,  then,  still  of  you, 
For  'tis  midnight  dreams  come  true  ! 


X  X  X  1  X 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 
II 

Lovers  all  who  fondly  stray 
Down  the  jasmine-wreathed  way, 

Pluck  the  bloom  and  drain  the  chalice 
To  the  full  while  yet  ye  may  ! 

Lyric  lip  and  morning  eye, 
Hasten  ere  the  dream  goes  by  ! 

Youth  is  fair  but  youth  is  fleet; 
And  ye  may  not  mesh  his  feet ; 

Ah,  but  while  the  springal  lingers, 
Life  is  luring,  life  is  sweet ! 

Lyric  lip  and  morning  eye, 
Hasten  ere  the  dream  goes  by  ! 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


SPRING  SONG 

Voice  of  April,  liquid  clear, 
In  the  daybreak  of  the  year ; — 
Spring's  blue  herald  in  the  tree 

Caroling  his  heart  away, 
Catch  and  madrigal  and  glee  : 

Spring  is  here  to-day  ! 

Breath  of  April,  redolent 
Of  the  attared  Orient ; — 
Spring's  faint  whisper  softly  blown 

Through  the  green  leaves  on  the  spray, 
Making  her  glad  message  known  : 

Spring  is  here  to-day  ! 

Feet  of  April,  swift  and  light, 
Leaving  all  the  landscape  bright; — 
Spring's  quick  footfall  on  the  ground 

Dewdrops  on  the  grass  betray ; 
Shine  the  tokens  all  around  : 

Spring  is  here  to-day. 


xli 


A      SOUTHEKN      FLIGHT 


Face  of  April,  fair  its  gleam 

As  the  young  Year's  waking  dream  ;  — 

Spring's  glad  smile  on  earth  and  sky, — 

Silver  mist  and  golden  ray, — 
Shower  and  sunshine  slipping  by  : 

Spring  is  here  to-day  ! 

Lips  of  April,  how  they  shine 
Through  the  fretwork  of  the  vine  ! 
Spring's  fresh  kisses  —  each  of  them  — 

Jewel  bud  or  blossom  gay, — 
Honey  sweet  on  twig  and  stem  : 

Spring  is  here  to-day  ! 

Heart  of  April,  last  and  best, 
Beating  fast  against  my  breast;  — 
Spring's  own  self !  Ah,  Sweetheart  true, 

Love  no  dearer  words  can  say  ; 
April  is  none  else  but  you  ! 

Spring  is  here  to-day  ! 


xlli 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  NIGHT  VOYAGE 

Silent  we  sailed  the  phosphorescent  seas, 

Our  ship  a  bark  with  shadowy  masts  and  spars, 

While  gleamed  o'erhead,  in  glorious  galaxies, 
The  phosphorescent  stars. 

The  breeze  that  breathed  about  us  bore  the  balm 
Of  coral  cove  and  long  land-locked  lagoon, 

Where  shines  above  the  tall  lianaed  palm 
The  Caribbean  moon. 

A  far  off  pharos  from  its  hidden  height 

Across  the  waters  flung  its  beckoning  beam, 

And  so  we  glided  through  the  violet  night 
Bound  for  the  bourn  of  dream. 


X  1  ill 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  MESSAGE 

In  a  southern  garden  scented 

And  sweet  with  the  jasmine  flower, 
By  the  mocking-birds  frequented 

In  each  blossom-builded  bower, 
What  a  passionate  outpouring 

From  the  fragrant  boughs  above ! 
And  out  to  the  northland  soaring 

Go  the  lyric-songs  of  love. 

In  the  heart  of  one  who  hearkens 

Is  a  lover's  lighted  shrine, 
And  never  a  shadow  darkens 

This  home  of  a  hope  divine, 
Where  love  like  these  birds  rejoicing 

Makes  melodious  the  place, 
While  breathing  her  name  and  voicing 

His  longing  to  see  her  face. 

O  my  Own,  if  song  can  find  you 

In  the  northland  where  you  are, — 
If  the  white  snows  do  not  blind  you 

To  a  clear  and  steadfast  star, — 
Let  your  eyes  look  forth  in  splendor 

And  hark  for  your  heart's  strange  beat, 
A  dream  with  a  message  tender 

Is  bound  for  your  slumber,  Sweet. 


X  1  1  V 


A      8OUTHEBN      FLIGHT 


THE  WIND  IN  THE  PALMS 

The  voice  of  the  wind  in  the  palms, 

What  does  it  say 
In  the  sweet  sunset  calms 

At  the  dip  of  the  day? 

'  Ever  and  evermore  "  — 

Thus  doth  it  mourn, 
'  From  shore  unto  uttermost  shore 

By  my  fate  I  am  borne. 

'  Slave  to  a  vast  unrest, 

I  may  never  abide, 
But  am  swept  on  an  endless  quest 

Like  the  toss  of  the  tide. 

I  long  —  how  I  long!  —  for  peace, 
And  the  soothing  of  sleep, 

But  my  farings  may  not  cease 
On  the  face  of  the  deep ; 

'  Nay,  nor  the  face  of  the  land, 

For  fiercely  afar 
Where  the  mightiest  mountains  stand 

Do  I  clutch  at  the  star 


XlY 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 

"That  hangs,  the  vault's  red  thrall ; 

And  I  know  the  soul, 

Alone  of  adventurers  all, 

Of  the  ultimate  pole. 

"So  I,  who  would  fain  be  one 

With  quietude, 

Am  doomed,  until  time  be  done, 
To  the  wandering  mood." 

Thus  saith  the  wind  in  the  palms 

( List  to  their  sway  ! ) 
In  the  sweet  sunset  calms 

At  the  dip  of  the  day. 


xl  vl 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


AT  HER  WINDOW 

Come  to  thy  window,  Love, 

And  through  the  lattice  bars 
Show  me  a  fairer  sky  above 
With  two  more  lovely  stars ; 
So  shall  the  southern  night 
Know  new  depths  of  delight, 
And  I  in  dreams  grow  wise 
Remembering  thine  eyes. 

Come  to  thy  window,  Swset, 
And  wide  the  lattice  swing, 
That  vagrant  zephyrs  may  repeat 
What  words  my  lips  shall  sing 
Unto  your  ears  anew, 
Up  from  the  fragrant  dew, 
That  all  your  dreams  may  be 
Like  those  that  gladden  me. 

Come  to  thy  window, —  Soft ! 

Thy  footstep  light  I  hear : 
About  me,  silence ;  but  aloft 
A  melody  most  dear : 
It  is  thy  voice  that  fills 
The  night's  blue  cup  and  spills 
Into  the  air  the  words 
The  rose  breathes  to  the  birds. 


xlvll 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


Come  to  thy  window, —  So, 

I  glimpse  the  gleam  of  grace  ; 
Rose  of  all  roses  now  I  know 
Featured  in  thy  fair  face  : 
Now  all  love's  joy  is  mine 
Save  one  heart  that  is  thine. 
Dearest,  my  dream  is  this  .  .  . 
Thy  heart's  beat  and  thy  kiss  ! 


XlTlll 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


THE  SILENT  DAY 

All  day  from  bole  to  live-oak  bole 
A  tenuous  curtain  of  gray  haze 

Spread,  and  sound  seemed  to  lose  its  soul 
Throughout  the  woodland  ways. 

No  music  murmured  in  the  pine  ; 

No  tremor  moved  the  wild  plum  bloom ; 
The  bee  within  the  jasmine  vine 

Dozed,  drunken  with  perfume. 

Then  the  west  wind  crept  o'er  the  hill 
And  just  at  sunset  rent  the  veil ; 

A  mock-bird  gave  a  lingering  trill, — 
A  choir  took  up  the  tale  ; 

The  very  sod  grew  vocal,  aye, 

The  leaves  became  a  lyric  throng ! 

Earth  throbbed  with  twilight  ecstasy, 
And  day  went  out  in  song. 


Xlll 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


LONGINGS 

Absent  from  you,  I  linger  here  alone, 
And  all  around  me  roses  fresh  and  fair 

Girdle  the  garden  with  a  fragrant  zone, — 
Yet  my  Rose  is  not  there. 

Morning  and  afternoon,  the  whole  day  long, 
The  feathered  minstrels  in  the  boughs  above 

Pour  out  their  lyric  hearts,  yet  in  their  song 
I  miss  the  voice  I  love. 

And  when  the  twilight's  miracle  is  wrought, 
Studding  with  stars  the  sapphire  of  the  skies, 

Into  my  dreams  forever  comes  the  thought 
Of  two  beloved  eyes. 

Despite  such  days  and  nights,  a  something  more 
My  heart  would  have  to  make  its  joy  complete 

Hasten,  ye  laggard  Hours,  unto  her  door, 
And  bring  me  to  my  Sweet ! 


A     SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


DORCHESTER  CHURCHYARD 

SOUTH    CAROLINA 

Thorn-keen  withes  and  briars 

The  lonely  garth  enfold, 
Where  the  rathe  spring  lights  her  fires 

Over  the  matted  mould. 

The  only  mourners  there 

Are  the  moss  that  droops  from  the  bough, 
And  the  mock-bird  spelling  the  air 

With  the  pathos  of  its  vow. 

The  marbles  are  gray  with  grime, 

Sunken  or  cleft  apart;  — 
O  despot  hand  of  Time, 

Inexorable  thou  art ! 

Naught  but  a  crumbling  tower, 

Long  since  reft  of  its  bells, 
Of  the  hamlet's  ancient  power 

With  eloquent  silence  tells. 

All  through  the  lonely  night 

The  Ashley  lisps  to  its  reeds, 
And  that  feathered  eremite, 

The  gray  owl,  slips  his  beads. 


1  i 


A     SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


Gone, —  all  of  life  is  gone, — 
An  empty  and  ashen  husk  ! 

Never  a  gleam  of  the  dawn, 

Naught  left  but  death  and  the  dusk  ! 


in 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 

DORCHESTER  FORT 

SOUTH    CAROLINA 

Below  the  river  winds,  the  tide  at  brim, 
The  water  lisping  low  some  liquid  name ; 

Above,  the  cardinal  from  limb  to  limb 
Flits  like  a  scarlet  flame. 

The  gateway  gapes ;  there  is  no  warder  there, 

Unless  it  be  a  ghostly  sentinel ; 
War  and  its  red  array  are  otherwhere ; 

Here  Peace  has  set  its  spell. 

Perchance  a  gay  colonial  cavalier 

By  that  rude  port  once  basked  him  in  the  sun ; 
And  haply  yonder,  with  his  scorn  of  fear, 

Walked  dauntless  Marion. 

"Dreams  !  fancy's  tissue  !  "  do  I  hear  you  cry? 
"Why  fill  our  ears  with  visionary  themes?" 
Go,  tread  the  spot,  then,  if  you  will,  deny 
It  is  a  place  for  dreams ! 


1111 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  BALCONY  SONG 

Sweet,  in  your  balcony  above 

The  garden's  rose-hung  bower, 

Surpassing  any  dream  of  love 

Your  face  looks  forth, —  a  flower. 

Methinks  on  such  a  night  as  this, 

Long  centuries  ago, 
Leaned  lovely  Juliet  to  kiss 

The  lips  of  Romeo. 

And  these  same  stars  which  overhead 

Are  listening  to-night 
Heard  all  the  tender  words  they  said, 

And  witnessed  their  delight. 

What  wonder  they  so  softly  shine, 
For  all  they  hear  and  see: 

Ah,  Dearest,  yield  your  lips  to  mine 
And  give  your  heart  to  me  ! 


liv 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


AT  TWILIGHT 

A  little  shallow  silver  urn, 
High  in  the  west  the  new  moon  hung; 
Amid  the  palms  a  fountain  flung 

Its  snowy  floss,  and  there,  above, 
With  its  impassioned  unconcern, 

A  hidden  bird  discoursed  of  love. 

I  felt  your  hand  upon  my  arm 
Flutter  as  doth  a  thrush's  wing, 
Then  tighten.     Sweet,  how  small  a  thing 

Draws  kindred  spirits  heart  to  heart ! 
More  was  that  hour's  elusive  charm 
To  us  than  eloquence  or  art. 


iv 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


NOONTIDE 

Roses  —  ah,  but  the  scent! — fair  as  the  dawn  is  fair; 

A  fountain  murmuring,  run  upon  rippling  run; 
"Winter!"  you  say;  nay!  nay!  not  with  this  wooing 

air, 

And  that  golden  psyche  there  threading  a  dance  in 
the  sun  ! 


SUNSET 

Against  a  crimson  sky  the  drooping  plumes    of  the 

palm ; 
High  in  the  west  a  star,  —  O    the  glamour  and 

gleam  thereof !  — 
And,  somewhere  hidden,  a  bird  piercing  the  soul  of 

the  calm 

With  the  rapture  of  its  song,  its  passionate  burden 
of  love. 


Ivl 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


MOONLIGHT 


Mellow  moon  of  the  South,  maiden  of  midnight  glory, 
With  your  tenuous  veil  of  orient  amber  spun, 

Ah,  but  you  tell  me  still  the  same  love-memoried  story 
Of  the  asphodelian  slopes,  and  the  young  Endymion  ! 


Ivil 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


A  THRUSH  SINGING 

Perched  on  the  topmost  branch  of  yonder  tree, 
Emblem  of  joy  and  its  epitome, 

From  his  green  minaret,  in  the  noon's  hush, 
Listen  !  —  the  song  of  the  muezzin  Thrush  ; 

Music  wherein  the  sweetness  of  the  day 

Is  all  transformed  in  some  transcendent  way, — 

Fragrance  and  color,  glint  of  grass  and  dew 
Changed  into  melody  and  born  anew; 

The  Earth  beneath  him,  Heaven's  blue  above, 
And  Allah  leaning  to  his  lyric  love. 


iviii 


A      SOUTHERN      FLIGHT 


BON  VOYAGE 

While  yet  the  Summer  lingers 

Here  in  the  drowsy  South, 
With  roses  in  her  fingers 

And  smiles  about  her  mouth, 
I  dare  to  breathe  my  passion 

To  her  that  she  may  know 
My  love  for  You,  and  fashion 

A  lover's  lyric  so. 

Northward,  some  morning  early, 

Her  old  path  she  will  take, 
Leaving  her  footprints  pearly 

With  dewdrops  in  their  wake ; 
Lighting  the  leafy  places 

With  fragrant  flowers,  and  then 
Find  where  your  lovely  face  is 

And  whisper  Home  again  ! 


lix 


The  Southern  Flight  is  done  ;   a  dream-delight 
Our  days  beneath  the  stainless  sky  seem  now ; 

The  bar  is  cleared,  the  open  sea  in  sight, 
And  northward  points  the  prow. 

Farewell,  O  dear  beg uilement !    We  must  turn 
From  paths  of  pleasure  and  of  soft  idlesse, — 

From  all  the  spirit-balm  of  unconcern, — 
To  ways  of  ceaseless  stress. 

The  last  palm  fades  till  like  a  tiny  hand 
It  speeds  us  o'er  the  welter  of  the  foam  ; 

Our  eyes  strain  forward  toward  the  distant  land,- 
The  beckoning  hills  of  home. 


This  Edition  of  A  Southern  Flight  printed  by  George 
William  Bronuning  at  Clinton  Neiv  York  during  the 
Summer  of  TQOJj  consists  of  Two  Hundred  &  Fifty 
copies  'with  Tivel<ve  additional  copies  on  Japanese 
Hand-made  Paper 

Number 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


BRAKY 

'  CALIFORNIA 


PS    Sherman  - 
2812—^  southern  fligj 
S72 


AA    001218053 


UCLA-Young  Research  Library 

PS2812  .872 

V 


L  009  598  062  9 


PS 

2812 

S72 


